


Trust

by BoxOnTheNile



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, M/M, Post-Canon, Touch-Starved, Trans Daniel Jacobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 01:19:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18042734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/pseuds/BoxOnTheNile
Summary: It's the third time this has happened this month.Eiffel regained his first memory of those hundred and ninety-three days in a decaying shuttle nearly two weeks ago, thrashing awake shouting and scared, wrapping himself tightly around Jacobi and crying softly until dawn. He was off balance for the next couple days, and just as he started to relax, he remembered more of thatfuckingshuttle, and Jacobi once again woke up at 3 a.m. with his boyfriend sobbing into his shoulder, begging him to be real.The idea worms its way into Jacobi's head not long after. He's been known to overthink himself into manic anxiety, and there's always been a surefire way to shut his brain down for a bit. He offers it. Eiffel agrees to try.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ednoppoz (zopponde)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zopponde/gifts).



> "But, Nile, you posted a thing less than 48 hours ago!" Shhhhhhhh it's fine, it's fine, it was finish this or work on my new supernatural creatures au and y'all do not need my incubus Kepler bullshit right now.
> 
> As all my post canon stuff, this has Leechy's and my headcanon that Eiffel eventually starts regaining his memory due to whatever the Dear Listeners did to his brain.
> 
> Also Zopp, ilu, welcome to the fandom.

It's the third time this has happened this month.

Eiffel regained his first memory of those hundred and ninety-three days in a decaying shuttle nearly two weeks ago, thrashing awake shouting and scared, wrapping himself tightly around Jacobi and crying softly until dawn. Jacobi had rubbed his back and whispered soft promises that he was safe, that the two of them were in Jacobi's apartment on Earth, he could call Minkowski and have her there in an hour if he needed.

Eiffel was off balance for the next couple days, and just as he started to relax, he remembered more of that _fucking_ shuttle, and Jacobi once again woke up at 3 a.m. with his boyfriend sobbing into his shoulder, begging him to be real.

The idea worms its way into Jacobi's head not long after. He's been known to overthink himself into manic anxiety, and there's always been a surefire way to shut his brain down for a bit. He offers it. Eiffel agrees to try. 

Which brings them here: Eiffel laid out naked beneath him, tied down and shivering, the morning after another memory of the shuttle.

“You good?” 

Eiffel breathes in deep, tugging against the knitted cuffs holding his wrists to the bed frame. He breathes out, cheeks flushed red under the black blindfold. “Please don't stop.”

Jacobi runs his hands up Eiffel's bare chest, watching his ribs expand as he breathes. There's surprisingly little scarring from Eiffel's bout with cryoburn, unlike Jacobi's myriad of scars, and Jacobi isn't sure if he's jealous or relieved. “I won't unless you tell me to. Safeword?”

Eiffel smiles crookedly. He's beautiful. “Psi wave.”

“Okay.”

“You know a lot about this,” Eiffel comments. He tugs on the cuffs again and exhales sharply.

“Want me to take those off?”

“No, it's fine, it's good, it's really good, it's… I don't have to make choices.”

Jacobi gets that one. “Okay. And I've done this before. Usually I'm the one tied up, though. 'S why I offered. I know it shuts off my brain when I need it.” 

He likes _this_ , too. He knows, technically, Eiffel has all the power here, that's how this works, but the open display of _trust_ is amazing. Intoxicating. Terrifying.

Jacobi trails his hands back down and rubs circles into Eiffel's hips with his thumbs. Eiffel arches into it with a gasp. He's so _responsive_ and unafraid of it. He trusts Jacobi to keep that secret and safe, to not abuse it, to not use that knowledge to force complacence somehow.

He shifts down the bed from his spot straddling Eiffel's thighs, hands stroking down after him. He paused there, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin of Eiffel's inner thighs. “This good?”

“ _Yes_.”

Jacobi leans up to grab a pillow, taps Eiffel's hip bone. “Up.” He struggles not to shiver when Eiffel obeys; instead he tucks the pillow under his hips and guides him back down. Eiffel's half hard already. There's a tube on bed next to him, and Jacobi pops it open.

Eiffel shudders at the sound.

“Still good?”

“Still great. Daniel.” 

He slicks his fingers, wipes one hand clean on the sheets and rubs soothing lines over Eiffel's thigh. “I'm touching you now,” he says, and wraps his other hand around Eiffel's cock. 

Eiffel arches into him with a whine, bed frame rattling as he pulls against the cuffs. It's like their first desperate, touch starved tumble all over again. Jacobi wonders if you can get skin hungry from a memory.

Eiffel wraps one leg around Jacobi's waist like he's trying to pull him closer. He laughs softly and leans up, kissing Eiffel while he strokes him slowly. Eiffel pants against his mouth, making small, desperate sounds.

“Please,” he gasps. “Please, Dan, _hnn—_ ”

“Nope,” Jacobi says, pretending _Dan_ doesn’t make something in his chest go warm and drippy. “You just get to sit back and _feel_ , okay?”

Jacobi is moving torturously slow, and he knows it, but Eiffel squirming under him is heady and powerful and–

Stop. Reset. Eiffel is whispering something so softly and Jacobi can't quite hear, but there's a hard “s” sound, and that's close enough.

He stops. “Eiffel? Doug?”

“Don't stop,” he gasps. “Please, please, don't stop.”

Jacobi strokes up Eiffel's cock, hard and fast, and he whimpers and fucks into his fist. This wasn't the plan, technically, but Jacobi is nothing if not versatile. “Do you want to come like this or do you still want to fuck me?”

Eiffel whines. “Fuck me,” he says quickly. “Nng, Dan, _hah._ ”

Jacobi is grateful for SI-5 Preparedness Training, because the condom foil has been tucked in his boxers waistband the whole time, poking into the small of his back. He rips it open and rolls it down Eiffel's cock, then presses a quick kiss to his hip bone. “I'm gonna stop touching for a sec. I'm right here.”

“Keep talking?” Eiffel asks, and there's a furrow to his brow that has Jacobi frowning.

“Of course, when have I ever been able to shut up?” he asks lightly, shimmying out of his underwear. Since Eiffel can't see him, he shoots them across the room with the waistband, because it's fun and his last ~~lover~~ hated it. He opens the lube again, slides two fingers into himself. “God, you look incredible. Tied up like this, I could do whatever I wanted. Keep you here forever, so I never have to leave. Fuck you 'til– _shit._ ” His free hand braces on Eiffel's leg as curls his fingers.

“Until what?” Eiffel teases with a shit-eating grin.

“I will untie you and end this right now,” Jacobi threatens, but they both know he won't, not unless he's asked to. 

Instead, he pulls his fingers free and lines himself up, lowering inch by glorious inch onto Eiffel's dick until he seats himself against his hips. It's by no means the _first_ time he's ridden Eiffel like this, but this is different. Eiffel has a ~~wonderful~~ bad habit of making sex about _Jacobi_ , wringing as many orgasms out of him as possible, pressing reverent kisses to the twin scars on his chest, gentle and more loving than almost anyone else Jacobi has fucked. With the cuffs, though, Eiffel can't touch him. It's exhilarating, the way Eiffel has put his heart in Jacobi’s hands. It's terrifying, the way Eiffel trusts Jacobi with the most vulnerable parts of him. 

And he is vulnerable, like this. Cheeks flushed and mouth slack, Eiffel is so beautiful and so utterly defenseless. 

“ _Daniel,_ ” Eiffel breathes, and Jacobi cups his jaw, draws a thumb across his bottom lip. “ _Please._ ”

Jacobi still hasn't figured out how to tell him no. He lifts slow and slides back down even slower. Eiffel makes punched-out little noises, staccato and soft, thrusting up as Jacobi comes down. Jacobi loses his balance and tips forward, catching himself on Eiffel's chest.

He almost threatens to stop again, to punish him if he doesn't hold still, but he grits his teeth against the urge. This isn't about that. This is about what Eiffel needs, and he doesn't need that. Some other time, he'll flip the script, have Eiffel tie _him_ down and hurt him and use him, but today isn't that time.

“Careful there,” he murmurs instead. 

“Sorry,” Eiffel gasps. He sounds wrecked, and they've barely started. 

“Just didn't think you wanted to stop so soon,” Jacobi says gently. Eiffel’s giggle almost sounds like a sob, and Jacobi reaches up to cup his jaw. Eiffel presses against his palm.

Keeping his hand braced on Eiffel's sternum, Jacobi starts to move again. He can feel Eiffel's heart thudding under his fingers, and his next breath comes shaking as his very bones are filled with warmth for this man under him. 

He hopes Eiffel can't feel him trembling, because he doesn't know how to answer the inevitable question. The warmth builds with every sigh, every stroke of Eiffel inside him, every beat of his heart, until Jacobi can't hold it anymore and he breathes out, “I love you.”

Doug sobs as he comes. Daniel fucks him through it until he's twitching and oversensitive, then lifts off him and carefully helps him out of the cuffs. Doug's cheeks and the blindfold are damp, but he smiles brilliantly up at Daniel. 

“I love you, too.”


End file.
